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A EULOGY 



ON 



WILLIAM HENRY HAHlirSON, 



LATE PPiESIMIT OF THE UIITSD STATED. 



DELIVERED AT 



ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN 



AFBI5- S:^^£-B11, 



BY REV. JOHN P. CLEAVELAND. 



ANN ARBOR: 
PRINTED BY T. M. LADD & CO. 

184L 



TO THE REV. JOHN P. CLEAVELAND : 

Dear Sir, — The committee appointed by the citizens of 
Ann Arbor to make arrangements lor a suitable commemoration of the life 
and death of William Henry Harrison, late President of the United States, 
present you their thanks for the able, appropriate, and eloquent Eulogy deli- 
vered by you on the 22d inst. and respectfully request a copy for publication. 

Your obedient servants, 

JAMES KINGSLEY, 
THOMAS MOSELEY, 
WILLIAM A. ABEL, 
ORIN WHITE, 
CALEB N. ORMSBY, 
WILLIAM R. PERRY, 
GEORGE MILES. 
Ann Arbor, 2-ith Ajpril, 1811, 



Ann Arbor, April 2G, 1841. 
Gentlemen ; 

In reply to your note of the 22d, I would say that although I 
have, hitherto, uniformly declined similar requests, and should much prefer 
to have made "my first appearance" under different circumstances, I have 
concluded that you are entitled to a copy of the Eulogy, and will furnish it as 
soon as other engagements will permit. Thrown off, as you are aware, in 
great haste, it will be found to possess no-special merit beyond what it derives 
from the melancholy occasion whiCh called it fnrth T hope, therefore, it will 
only be printed, and not published. 

Respectfully, your friend and fellow citizen, 

JOHN P. CLEAVELAND. 

Messrs. Jas. Kingsley, Thos. Moselcv, 
Wm. A. Abel, Orin White, C. N. 
Orm^by, Wm. R. Perry & G. Miles. 



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EULOGY. 



Fellow Citizens: 

The purpose of your assembling is plainly depict- 
ed on every countenance. The Republic mourns. Our country is be- 
reaved, lis chosen Head is no more. He had just gone up, obedient 
to an imperative call, to the city of our national solemnities, to be inves- 
ted with the robes of office. Already, at his Maker's bidding-, he has 
laid off those robes, and gone down to his final repose. Disappomt- 
ment broods heavily on the public mind. Admonition pours its solemn 
tones on the public ear. The people have paused and turned aside to 
bury and bewail their dead. By the impulses of a common sympathy 
we too have been drawn from our homes to join in the general commemo- 
ration. In compliance with your kind request, I come to speak, on 
your behalf, the eulogium of departed worth. On no occasion, have I 
distrusted myself more unfeignedly. To collect and authenticate the 
leading facts in the life of a distinguished individual; duly to set forth 
distinguished merit, and yet avoid th*^ language of inflated panegyric, 
is no trivial matter. The deceased, moreover, was long and actively 
occupied in political life, and he will probably furnish another illustra- 
tion of the remark so forcibly applied to Mr. Burke, that it is the pe- 
culiar infelicity of great politicians that they have to tarry a much lon- 
ger time than other celebrated men, for the full harvest of their fame. 
Not that posterity will ukimately pronounce less justly upon their mer- 
its, than concerning those of other men, but, that in the very nature of 
the case, a fair adjudication cannot take place so soon, A high reputa- 
tion in the natural sciences, for instance, encounters only the prejudices 
of those who despise even truth, if it come not in the garb of antiquity. 
The young are usually the willing proselytes to an improved philoso- 
phy. When Harvey humorously observed that he had seldom found 
a man over forty, who could be got to believe his theory of the circula* 
tion of the blood, it was replied, that he had as seldom found one under 



that age, who rejected it. The inductions of political men are, of necessitj% 
circumscribed, and their happiest experiments often depend on the slow 
revolutions of ages. There is, moreover, the influence of the passions. 
Political parties almost never die. Their principles live, and they suffer 
metempsychosis rather than dissolution. I am aware of another diffi- 
culty. Our lamented Chief Magistrate rose to power, through the col- 
lisions of the most excited canvass, that has occurred since the organi- 
zation of the government. During its progress, his whole character, 
personal and official, was subjected to the most familiar inspection. — 
The slightest pretensions to the magic charms of novelty, would on my 
part, be superlatively absurd. Besides, I am surrounded by many of 
those, who, with equal zeal and good intent, were a few days ago, the 
political opponents of the lamented and illustrious dead. As good citi- 
zens, they are reverently listening to the voice of God, believing that 
when He speaks, it befits man to be silent, whilst their presence here 
warns me to proceed with a wary step. At the risk of repeating what 
every one knows, and of dwelling on what the song of childhood has 
often and recently celebrated, I siiail rapidly trace the leading events ia 
the life of the President, for the purpose of developing the more clear- 
ly, the leading traits in his character. Of one or two of his ancestors, 
I have also something to say. 

WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON was born at Berkley, on 
James River in Virginia, February 6, 1773, and consequently, was a 
little more than sixty eight years old, at the time of his decease. 

It would seem that as patriots and politicians, the family have long 
been distinguished, and that the best blood of its early ancestors still 
flows in the veins of their latest posterity. William Henry was a di- 
rect lineal descendant of Colonel John Harrison, a conspicuous ac- 
tor on the side of the people in procuring the execution of the unfortu- 
nate Charles I, and in subsequently resisting the usurpations of Oliver 
Cromwell. Hume, although the obsequious apologist of the crown, 
and the derider of republicanism and religion, is constrained to admit 
that Col. Harrison was an intrepid defender of popular rights, and 
withal, an enthusiastic christian. When it was determined to bring 
Charles to trial, John Harrison, who was the son of a butcher, and 
naturally identified with the people, was sent to conduct the captive 
monarch to London. Harrison was attended by a strong military force, 
who partook fully of his own enthusiasm. As Charles approached 
the city, he expressed his fears that a private assassination awaited him. 



Harrison assured him that his fears were groundless, and treated him 
with the kindness of a magnanimous foe. Col. Harrison was one of 
the regicide judges, and signed the decree by which Charles was exe- 
cuted. Col. Fairfax, the fiiend of Charles, it was well understood, was 
bent on his rescue, and was intending, if necessary, to employ his own 
devoted regiment for that purpose. Cromwell and his associates ap- 
pealed to the religious feelings of Fairflix, asserting that the hand of 
the Lord was stretched out to destroy his Prince, and that earnest pray- 
er on behalf of Charles, was the only means of relief, that remained. 
Harrison was designated to attend Fairfax in a season ef special prayer 
for the divine interposition. In spite of the sneers of the ill-humo>red 
historian, Harrison seems to have acted throughout the whole in perfect 
good faith. At all events, he kept Fairfax to his prayers, 'till Charles 
was disposed of. The subsequent conduct of Harrison clearly illus- 
trates the sincerity of his attachment to liberty. He boldly protested 
against Cromwell's encroachments upon the rights of the people, and 
honorably refused all the favors which were tendered by the Protector. 
Cromwell undoubtedly admired and feared him, and sought to quiet his 
jealousy for the popular cause by urging upon him the highest digni- 
ties in the commonwealth. Forthwith after the Restoration, the regi- 
cides were punished, and John Harrison was first brought to trial. He 
plead his own cause, says Dr. Goldsmith, with the same undaunted 
firmness, which he had shewn through life. History has preserved the 
following beautiful peroration of his self defense. The "animalized soul" 
of David Hume could not with-hold from him the merit of great cour- 
age and elevation of sentiment, on that trying occasion. Addressing a 
court pledged for his condemnation, he closed as follows. " The pre- 
tended crime of which I here stand accused was not done in a corner. 
The sound of it has gone forth to most of the nations, and in the singu- 
lar and marvellous conduct of it, has chiefly appeared the sovereign 
power of heaven. For myself, I have often been agitated by doubts re- 
specting the transaction, and with passionate tears, have I as often offer- 
ed up my addresses to the Divine Majesty, and earnestly sought for light 
and conviction. The result is, that 1 have received assurance of a 
heavenly sanction, and returned from those devout applications, with 
more serene tranquillity and satisfaction. Let us remember that all the 
nations of the earth are, in the eyes of their Creator, as a drop of wa- 



G 

t€r in the bucket. The erroneous judgments of men are nought but 
darkness, when compared with the divine illuminations. These repeat- 
ed impulses of God's Spirit, I can never suspect to have been mere in- 
terested illusions, — for I am fully conscious, that for no temporal ad- 
vantage, for no personal benefit whatever, would I ofTcr an injury to 
the poorest man or woman, ihat ever trod the earth. All the allure- 
ments of ambition, all the terrors of imprisonment, have not once pro- 
ved sufficient, during the usurpations of Cromwell, once my associate 
and friend, to shake my resolution, or bend me, as all England knows, 
to a compliance with that deceitful tyrant. He invited, he urged me of- 
ten, to sit on the right hand of the throne. He offered me riches, and 
splendor, and dominion Did 1 not disdainfully reject all these tempta- 
tions ? Have I not continued in my privacy and my poverty? Neglec- 
ting the tears and entreaties of my family and my friends, have I not, 
through every danger, held fast my principles and my integrity? In 
that integrity, and by those principles, I urn ready to die." At his exe- 
cution, he displayed much of that admirable constancy, which had 
crowned his whole conrac, altho' that execution was disgraced by atro- 
citiesfrnm which savage vengeance would have shrunk abashed. His V 
head was fastened upon the sledge, which drew the learned solicitor 
Coke, and the eloquent Hugh Peters to the place of execution, with its 
ghastly and bleeding features turned directly towards them. One hun- 
dred and thirteen years from the execution of this bold martyr to Eng- 
lish Liberty, his, (if I mistake not,) " great-great-grandson," William 
Henry, was born. 

The father of the late President was Benjamin Harrison, a name 
deservedly dear to his country and to freedom. Ten years before the 
scenes of the revolution were fully opened, he was associated in the 
Virginia House of Burgesses, with Peyton Randolph, and Patrick 
Henry, and Thomas Jefferson, and their illustrious compeers ; to ev- 
ery successive aet of foreign misrule, opposing a dauntless spirit, and a 
well-directed resistance. Harrison, Henry, Lee, Jefferson, Randolph; 
these were the men who kindled the beacon fires of liberty at the South, 
while Otis, Hancock, and Adams were fanning its frames at the North' 
till Massachusetts and Virginia, leading on their sister colonies, had 
set the whole country in a blaze. Hancock earlv shewed himself in- 
capable of pliancy or dismay, and was honored as the first intended vic- 
tim of British fury. But Hancock at home was held to be one of 



New England's brightest stars. For the presidency of the Continental 
Congress of seventy-six, or\]y two candidates were thought of; John 
Hancock and Benjamin Harrison. Hancock had been declared an 
outlaw, and threatened with the scaffold. Harrison generously yield- 
ed his pretensions, and the election of Hancock was unanimous. Han- 
cock modestly hesitated a moment to accept the station. His magnan- 
imous rival, the most athletic man in the house, was standing near him. 
With the ready good humor which could enjoy a dignified joke even 
in the senate-house, Harrison seized Hancock in his capacious arms, 
and placing him in the Presidential Chair, exclaimed, " we will show 
mother Britain how much we care for her, by making a Massachusetts 
man our President, whom she has excluded from pardon by a public 
proclamation. The anxiety which gathered round the scene of sign- 
ing the Declaration, was again relieved by the pleasantry and self-pos- 
sion, with which Benjamin Harrison performed his part. Of the en- 
tire body of whole-souled patriots, who composed the Congress of 1776, 
I seldom trust myself to speak. John Adams' description of his great 
contemporary, James Otis, would bat worthily set forth their true 
qualities of mind and heart. " They were flames ot Are. With a 
promptitude ot classical allusion, a depth of research, a rapid survey 
of historical events, a prophetic glance of their eyes into futurity, and a 
rapid torrent of eloquence, they carried all before them." The author 
o{ McFingal, in his "Elegy on the Times," written whilst they were 
in session, thus commends them to fame and to mankind. 

" Then met the fathers of this Western c'ime ; 
Nor names more noble graced the rolls of iame, 
When Spartan firmness brav'd the vrec-k of time, 
Or Rome's bold virtues fann'd the heioic flame. 

Not deeper thought the immortal page inspired, 
On Solon's lips, when Grecian senates hung; 
Nor manlier eloquence the bosom fired 
When genius thundered from the Athenian tongue. 

In that Congress, among the firmest, the most resolved, stood Benja- 
min Harrison, the patriotic sire of the last of the American Presidents. 
For the next five years after he retired from Congress, he was Speak- 
er of the Virginia House of Delegates. He was then elected Gover- 
nor of the State and re-elected as long as the constitution made him el- 
igible. Whilst a member of the state legislature, in 1791, he died, m 
the very year that William Henry, then only eighteen, received from 
the hand of George Washington, the commission of an Ensign in the 



8 

American army, under the brave but unfortunate St. Clair. The chain 
of public service in the Harrison family was thus preserved unbroken. 
I have enumerated but a part of the responsible trusts, to which the fa- 
ther was called ; in all, was he found " faithful unto death." As Chair- 
man of the Board of War, he lavished a large fortune in his country's 
cause, leaving to his children little inheritance, beside the memory of 
his virtues, and the example of his love of liberty, and of right. 

" Patience^ that baffles fortune's utmost rage; 
High-minded IIojJS, which, at iJie lowest ebb, 
The bravest impulse feels, and scorns despair." 

This was the lesson, in which William Henry Harrison was indoc- 
trinated from his father's lips : — a lesson — how thoughtfully pondered, 
— how illustriously practised by the pupil, we are next to shew forth, 
and we hasten to our narrative. Harrison entered the infant army of 
the West in '91. St. Clair had just been defeated. During the eight 
years which had then elapsed from the close of the revolutionary war, 
little less than two thousand men women and children, are estimated to 
have fallen a sacrifice to savage ferocity on the waters of the Ohio. 
The hardships nnd (dangers of a western winter campaign, at the peri- 
od referred to, almost defy description. The slender frame of Ensign 
Harrison was pronounced by his family, to be wholly inadequate to the 
task. But the spirit, that had defied danger and disarmed death, in the 
breasts of his progenitors, was kindled in his own, and his resolution 
was taken. He had previously been graduated at Hampden Sydney- 
College, and had entered on the study of medicine at Philadelphia. 
His medical instructer was the celebrated Benjamin Rush, and his 
guardian, Robert Morris of New Jersey, as eminent in finance, as was 
Rush in medicine. Both of them were siQ:ners of the Declaration of 
Independence, and could hardly have failed to foster in their pupil and 
ward, the spirit of the glorious struggle, which had just closed. Har- 
rison is reputed to have exhibited, whilst at college, a fondness for clas- 
sical studies, which he never lost, even amidst the perils and conflicts 
of after life. But the desire to serve his country on another field, tri- 
umphed. On receiving his commission, he marched on foot lo Pitts- 
burg, and by descending the Ohio, reached his regiment, at Fort Wash- 
ington, now Cincinnati. His first service was the command of an escort, 
charged with a train of pack-horses for Fort Hamilton, and involved 
the constant exercise of sagacity and self-denial. General St. Clair 



9 

warmly communded Harrison for the elFicient performance of this first 
service to which he v*'as detailed. The next year he was raised to the 
rank of Lieutenant. But the broken fortunes of Harmer and St. Clair 
required a change of commanders, and Washington selected Anthony 
Wayne who had already won the title of the " Hannibal of the West." 
Harrison joined the legion under Wayne, in 1763, and in a few days 
was appointed one of his aids, which secured to him a tuition in tactics, 
severe, but eminently valuable. 

On the 23d of December, of the same year, a detachment was sent to 
take possession of St. Clairs battle-ground, on which he had been de- 
feated, more than two years before. In mid-winter, to collect and bury 
the remains of the brave men who had there fallen, and recover the 
lost ordnance, was an enterprise, v;bich Anthony Wayne deemed ex- 
tremely difficult. In closing his general order on the return of the 
troops, he says; " The commander in chief requests Major Mills, Cap- 
tains DeButts and Butler, and Lieutenant Harrison to accept his best 
thanks for their voluntary aid and services on the occasion." Thus 
was the name of Harrison fairly inscribed in the volume of his coun- 
try's history. It was generally apprehended by the army, thai his hab- 
its of study, and the extreme delicacy of his constitution would pros- 
trate him long before he could inure himself to the privations of a bor- 
der war. " I would as soon," said an old soldier, '• have sent my wife 
into the service as this hoy. But I have been out with him, and I find 
that those smooth cheeks are on a wise head, and that that slisfht frame 
is almost as tough as ray cwa weather beaten carcass." On the ensu- 
ing 2'lth of August, 1794, the battle of Maumae was fought between 
the allied Indians, and the American army under Wayne. It was a 
decisive blov/, and staggered the courage of the enemj'-. After be- 
stowing the highest approbation upon every cfiicer belonging to the ar- 
my, from Wilkinson, his brigadier, to the lowest subaltern, he says, "to 
these I must add the names of my gallant and faithful aids. Captains 
DeButts and Lewis and Lieutenant Harriso7i, who rendered the most 
essential service by communicating my orders in every direction, and 
by their conduct and bravery, exciting the troops to press for victory." 
The Indians were now disposed to negotiate for peace, and Harrison, 
having been farther promoted to the rank of Captain, was left in com- 
mand of E'ort Washington, with the addition of general commissariate 
powers, for the Western Posts. Whilst in the command of Fort 



10 

Washington, William Henry Harrison was married to the daughter of 
Captain John Cleves Symmes, the intrepid founder of the Miami set- 
tlements. An anecdote in this connection, has often been published, the 
truth of which General Harrison is said recently to have admitted ta 
some of his friends. On his asking permission of Captain Symmes» 
to marr}'' his daughter, the Captain coolly inquired of him how he ex- 
pected to maintain a wife. Placing his hand upon his swoid, he prompt- 
ly rejoined, "this, sir, is my means of support." His point was carried. 
Peace and tranquillity being now restored, and his venerated comman- 
der, Anthony Wayne, being dead, Harrison retired to his lands near 
Cincinnati, and began the cultivation of that fondness for agricultural 
pursuits which followed him with increasing ardor through life. His 
repose, however, was short. The next year after he left the army, he 
was appointed Secretary of the North-western Territory, by John Ad- 
ams, then President of the United States. By virtue of this appoint- 
ment, he became, ex-ofRcio, lieutenant governor, and for a part of the 
time, acting-governor of that widely fixtended region. Evidence of 
his popularity as a civil officer, has been found in the fact, that the 
very next year, he was elected to Congress, the first delegate from 
the Territory, and took his seat in that body, at the early age of 
twenty-six. From one so young, little could be reasonably demanded: 
If I assert, then, that during the first session, he procured, by his own ex- 
ertions, the abrogation of the old, iniquitous system of land sales, the whole 
efiect of which was to produce an enormous land monopoly, and to 
crush the spirits of the enterprising, but poor emigrant — if I assert that 
he procured the adoption of a bill, which threw open a vast and fertile 
region to the actual settler, whose own axe has felled the forest, and 
whose own plough has furrowed the soil ; — if I assert that he was- 
equally successful in accomplishing the relief of the meritorious but 
suffering purchasers on the Miami, you will understand me to rest my 
assertions, upon authority, no less unquestionable, than the records of 
Congress, and other public documents, on which the strong coloring of 
partizan zeal, is nowhere discernible. To have been placed at the head 
of an important committee, with the accomplished Gallatin for a col- 
league, and before he had reached the age of twenty seven, was no 
mean distinction. To have carried a new and bold measure, by a tri- 
umphant majority, at a time when caution was the watchword of the 
nation, was a prouder distinction still. To have thus acquired tht3 abi- 



11 

ding appellation of " the "poor man^s frieml^'' was the crowning glory 
of it all. It was better than to be President — it w^as more to be covet- 
ed, than to rest, inglorious, in the Mausoleum of the Cresars. Augus- 
tus boasted that he found Rome built of brick, and should leave it built 
of marble. General Harrison might have said, that he found the great 
West a silent and gloomy forest, and left it, smiling with the fruits of 
Christian industry and peace. 

In 1800, Congress erected the hidiana Territory, comprising at its 
organization, what is now comprehended by the states of Illinois and 
Indiana, and the territory of Wiskonsan. The next year, General Har- 
rison was appointed by the President and Senate, its first Governor. 
A task more perplexing, could hardly have been imposed. To govern 
a few thousands emigrants, scattered over an area of more than two 
hundred thousand square miles, and larger, than the total terri- 
tory of all the New England and ail the Middle States, " the Empire 
and the Keystone " included ; to hold in check the restless savage, 
whose treacheries in lime cf a nominal peace, are more annoying than 
in open war ; — to encourage immigraiiou, and preserve domestic tran- 
quillity ; — to do all this, I say, must have put in requisition, other qual- 
ities than indolence or ambition. But tlie worst of it is not yet told. 
That whole region swarmed with British agents, mercenary hirelings, 
who, by night and by day, were stealthily stirring up the Indian tribes, 
to commit thefts, robberies and murders ; — stimulating them with drink 
and bribing them with presents. When has a more unenviable burden 
been laid on the shoulders of a man, who had just turned his twenty-eighth 
year? Nor is this ail. In February, 1803, President Jefferson, the 
early and unflinching opponent of "Executive patronage and power," 
the Argus-eyed sentinel of the people's rights, sent into the Senate the 
following message. 

" I nominate Williiam Henry Harrison of Indiana, to be a commis- 
sioner to enter into any treaty or treaties, which may be necessary, 
with any tribes northwest of the Ohio, and within the territory of the 
United States, on the subject of boundary or lands. 

Thomas Jefferson," 

On the day which completed Harrison's thirtieth year, the nomina- 
tion was unanimously confirmed by the Senate. Plis responsibilities 
were shared now, with no one. He acted alone* The famous Roman 
edict, Nc quid respublica detrimenii caperet, (Let the Consul see that 
the republic receive no damage,) adopted only in some alarming crisis, 



12 

conferred a less absolute sway, than was now entrusted to Governor 
Harrison. The same year, on the admission of Ohio to the Union, 
the territory of Michigan Proper was added to the Indiana Territory, 
extending Harrison's jurisdiction over a space of two hundred and sev- 
enty thousand square miles. The subsequent year, he was made, ex- 
officio governor of Upper Louisiana. Of a pretty large part of the 
territory q[ iha United States, he was already President. 

If it be inquired, whether he could have possessed that rare combi- 
nation of moral and intellectual powers, which the cares of such a sta- 
tion demanded, I answer: So thought John Adams, who first commis- 
sioned him, although Harrison was an avowed opposer of Mr. Adams' 
election. So thought Thomas Jefferson, who twice renewed his com- 
mission, with an enlargement of his powers, and an extension of his ju- 
risdiction, without precedent or parallel. So thought James Madison, 
who re-afHrmed the confidence of his predecessors, by repeating the ap- 
pointment. If you ask for the results of his administration, I have no 
time for the multifarious details. I will mention one. During the pe- 
riod of his double ng-cncy as Governor and Commissioner, he efTected 
thirteen treaties with the different tribes of the North West, each of 
them receiving the sanction of the Senate, and the signature of the Pre- 
sident, thus adding sixty million acres of land to the peaceable domain 
of the United States. If it be asked, how the people regarded him: — 
I pass over an accumulation of testimonials, proceeding at different times, 
from various popular assemblies, and cite you to an expression of pub- 
lic sentiment, spontaneously tendered, after he had exercised his high 
functions, for more than eight years. The term of his commission was 
about to expire, and the territorial legislature, at a time when the ran- 
cor of party spirit left few public men unscathed, warmly memoriali- 
sed the President for his re-appointment. They speak of his strong 
hold upon the afiections of the people; — of his fidelity to his arduous 
and diversified trusts ;— of his benign influence over the Indian tribes, 
o[ his 2Jre-emine7it ivisdom m the management of the affairs of that de- 
partment, and in terms, which must have satisfied the most overween- 
ing ambition. From contemporary statesmen, among the ablest in the 
land, his annual messages received unqualified commendation. 

We have now approached a period, when the duties of the civilian 
were again to give place to the perils of the soldier. On the high pla- 
ces of Indian warfare, there rose up a lofty and indomitable spirit, fierce- 



13 

\y bent on avenging- the wrongs of the past, and erecting an impassable 
barrier to the progress of civilization,-— I mean the renowned Shawa- 
nee chief, Tecumseit. Scdnte, yet courageous ; eloquent, yet profound ; 
Tindictive, yet deceitful; he placed himself at the head of the second 
North-western confederacy in an attitude, which infused terror into ev- 
ery cabin and hamlet of the frontier. The President immediately or- 
dered a body of troops to the scene of coming hostilities, to be 
placed under the command of Governor Harrison, with discretionary 
powers touching their destination and employment. The Governor 
first obtained an intervievv with Tecumseh. The haughty Chief ap- 
peared, attended by four hundred warriors, armed with war-clubs. On 
the part of the Governor, the aflair was conducted with equal firmness 
and forbearance. On the part of Tecumseh, there was little beside inso- 
lent menace and abuse. As finely illustrating the forecast and address of 
the Governor, it is recorded, that he obtained from the angry warrior, a 
promise no longer to wage war upon defenceless v/omen, children or 
prisoners,- — a pledge, which Tecumseh honorably redeemed. He left 
the Governor avowing his determination to push to the most desperate 
extremities, and hostilities broke out immediately. Om.itting all the 
intervening details, I come at once to the theatre of Harrison's first mil- 
itary exploit, as commander-in-chief— the battle of Tippecanoe. This 
celebrated action took place on the seventh of November, iSll — in the 
state of Indiana, near the entrance of a small river into the Wabash. 
Harrison's force consisted of less than a thousand men — composed of 
Indiana m.ilitia — Kentucky volunteers, and a detachment of United 
States' troops. The savage forces were estimELted at about the same 
number. In accordance with his own feelings and the instructions of 
the War department, repeated overtures for peace were made by the 
governor, till farther repetition would have been worse than useless. I 
am impelled to pause a moment, just to express my admiration of ihe 
anxiety of Governor Harrison to save, if possible, the shedding even of 
the blood of a barbarous and vindictive foe. Having arrived at the In- 
dian encampment, and finding all attempts at reconciliation wholly un- 
availing, Harrison encamped for the night, the troops resting on their 
arms. No one could conjecture when or where the death-struggle 
would begin. Before day-break, the enemy made a sudden, well-ordered 
and desperate onset. Harrison had risen beforehand — and was not dis- 
concerted. The battle soon became general, and raged fearfully, till 



14 

ilay dawned on the work of carnage and death. Harrison then efiected 
a new and more concentrated rally of the American troops. The en- 
emy gave way. and a complete victory crowned the sanguinary toils of 
the morning. We cannot here stop to pay even a passing tribute to 
the brave men who fell at the first shock. As eulogists of the dead, 
we inquire only for the conduct of the commanding officer. The jour- 
nal of a soldier who was in the engagement, Adam Walker Esq. of 
New Hampshire, written twenty years before the nomination of Gene- 
ral Harrison for the presidency, says, — •' In the heat of the action, 
Harrison's voice was heard and easily distinguished, giving orders in 
the same cool, collected manner, which he manifested on drill or pa- 
rade. Our confidence in his skill and courage, was unlimited." In 
his next annual message the President says, " Congress will see, with 
satisfaction, the dauntless spirit and fortitude, victoriously displayed by 
every species of troops engaged, as well as the collected firmness, 
which distinguised their commander, on an occasion requiring the ut- 
most exertion of valor and discipline." Yes, my fellow-citizens, it was 
the pen of James Madison, which ihus recorded and published the just 
praise of Harrison's prowess and power. •' I would not barter it" said a 
political opponent, " for gold or diamonds." 

The blow at Tippecanoe was felt. It decided the wavering. It quel- 
led the mal-content. It tranquillised a terrified frontier. It opened the 
avenues to the prosperity and glory of the West. During the progress 
of the battle, Harrison was twice struck. In one instance, the ball 
pierced his cravat, and " grazed the channels of life." A day or two 
before the action, a negro entered his marquee, under engagement with 
the Prophet, to assassinate him. The assassin was detected, convicted, 
and ordered to be shot. As he lay bound at the stake, the Governor 
approached him — and be?ield his agony. The deep and generous im- 
pulses of humanity triumphed over the sternness of the soldier — and 
with a simple yet sublime magnanimity, he pardoned and released him; 
Western legislatures lavished their encomiums upon the hero of Tip- 
pecanoe. But the peace that ensued, proved but the deceitful lull, which 
foretokens the fury of the storm. The clouds that hung in the horizon 
waxed more and more portentous. To meet the crisis manfully, the 
patriotic governors of Kentucky and Illinois united their counsels with 
those of Harrison, and even brevetted him as a Major General of their 
own militia. " Harrison," says General McAflec, an ofiicer in the last 



15 

war, " had won the warm aflection of every man in the army," and " un- 
der him, thev were ready to battle more valiantly for their country, than 
under any general in America." War was declared with Great Brit- 
ain, June 18, 1812, It was soon made known to the President, that 
the voice of the West had declared for Harrison, as the leader of the 
campaign, and he was immediately placed in command of the entire 
and almost interminable North West. The language of his commis- 
sion, bearing the signature of James Madison, was — that he should com- 
mand such means as might be practicable, use his own discretion, 
and act in all cases, according to his best judgment. '* Never," says 
an American writer, "never before, since the war of the revolution, had 
so extensive a command been entrusted to any officer of the United States, 
whether we consider the boundless expanse which it embraced, or the 
powers which it conferred." Such was the confidence which President 
Madison, who had known him well and tried him often, reposed in Will- 
iam Henry Harrison, as a brave, wise, trust-worthy commander. In 
that confidence, James Madison 7iever wavered or declined. On assu- 
ming the post thus assigned to him, " the power of working miracles" 
seemed almost indispensable to success. Universal exasperation at 
Hull's surrender; a total want of discipline among the troops; — a 
trackless and swampy wilderness, swarming with hostile savages, be- 
tween the point of attack and the source of supply; — with a thousand 
miles of frontier, vulnerable at every point to the British and Indian al- 
lies ; — these, fellow-citizen.s, formed a imrt of the obstacles, which lay 
spread out before the eye of General Harrison, when he entered on the 
campaign of 1812. The detail of preparation, and privation, which 
wore away the autumn, would be out of place in this exercise. Milita- 
ry men, having no political partialities for General Harrison, have pro- 
nounced the most flattering judgments upon the martial skill and politi- 
cal forethought, which those preparations displayed. 

The first decisive action, in which General Harrison was personally 
engaged, was at Fort Meigs on the Maumee. As soon as he had as- 
certained that an attack was meditated, he hastened to conduct the de- 
fense in person. The enemy, consisting of British regulars and Indians, 
under the dastardly Proctor, made their arpearance on the morning of 
the 2Gth of April. The enemy rapidly erected three batteries, and 
manned them with a strong force. An incessant fire was kept up on 
both sides for several days, As soon as General Harrison's reinforce- 



IG 

mcnls descended the river, he determined on a sortie from the fort. The 
Avhole was carefully arranged, and crowned with brilliant success. 
Col. Dudley's fine regiment, who had charged and carried two of tho 
enemy's batteries without the loss of a man, instead of obeying Harri- 
son's orders to return immediately to the boats, suffered themselves, un- 
happily, to remain lighting with some straggling Indians, till Proctor 
had time to interpose a large detachment from his main body, and cut 
them oiT. They were given up to the Indians, and inhumanly toma- 
hawked under Proctor's eye. Proctor then sent a message to Harrison, 
demanding the surrender of the fort, as the only means of preventing 
an indiscriminate massacre when it should be taken. Harrison inform- 
ed him that it never would be taken, and warned him not to repeat his 
threat. Covered with confusion and disgrace, Proctor precipitately re- 
treated to Maiden. 

Gen. Harrison had early pressed upon the general government the 
importance of a naval armament upon Lake Erie. It was now in rapid 
progress, and Perry's victory soon followed. Harrison's turn came 
next, and Proctor's fate was sealed. Learning that General Harrison's 
vvhole army were embarked on board Perry's ships, and hastening 
towards Maiden, Proctor retired to a spot on the Thames, sixty miles 
above Detroit. Here General Harrison came up with him, and it is 
enough to say, tpie battle of the Thames was fought. Proctor 
w^as routed and escaped only by the superior fleetness of his horse. 
But for this he had surely fallen into the hands of that generous foe, 
whose life he had perpetually sought, and by the meanest stratagems, 
to destroy. Tecumseh was killed and the Indians dispersed. Brave 
men fought; brave men conquered ; brave men fell. 

Of the part enacted in this memorable action, by the lamented indi- 
vidual, who conducted it, I shall now summon a few impartial wit- 
nesses. The first is General James Armstrong, then at the head of the 
War Department. "Thus fortunately," says his official report, "ter- 
minated an expedition, the results of which, were of high importance to 
the United States. A naval ascendency has been gained on Lakes 
Erie and Superior ; — Maiden destroyed ; — Detroit recovered ; — Proc- 
tor defeated ; — the alliance between Great Britain and the savages dis- 
solved, — and peace and industry restored to our widely extended fron- 
tier." Com. Perry, who was present as a volunteer aid to General 
Harrison, in a letter subsequently addressed to the Greneral, says, " The 
prompt change made by you in the order of battle on discovering the 



17 

position of the enemy, has always appeared to me to evince a high de- 
gree of military talent'^ In the next annual mess.ige to Congress, 
President Madison, after reviewino- in terms of high commendation, the 
whole campaign, including the victory on Lake Erie, and mentioning 
with rare disci imination, the prominent actors in the affair of the 
Thames, remarks: — " This result is signally honorable to Major Ge- 
neral Harrison, by whose military talents it was prepared." The cele- 
brated Langdon Cheves said in his place in Congress — " The victory 
of Harrison was such as would have secured to a Roman general in 
the best days of the Republic, the honors of a triumph. The patriotic 
Simon Snyder, long known as the democratic governor of Pennsylvania 
thus introduced the subject to the legislature of that state — " Already is 
the brow of the young warrior, Croghan, encircled with laurels, and 
the blessings of thousands of women and children, rescued from the 
scalping knife of the ruthless savage, and the more savage Proctor, rest 
on William Henry Harrison and his gallant army." la our own 
hearing, the late Vice Preisident of the United States, himself one of 
the most intrepid heroes of that day, declared, that C4eneral Harrison's 
position during the action, v.'as just such as became a commanding of- 
ficer, and that he witnessed nothinf^ on that occasion inconsistent with 
the character of an accomplished general and a brave man. The vote 
of thanks adopted by Congress and approved by the President, accom- 
panying the presentation of a gold medal, — was decisive of the senti- 
ments entertained towards him by the representatives of a grateful na- 
tion. After other important services rendered in the farther prosecu- 
tion of the war, General Harrison resigned his commission, and reiurned 
to his family and his farm. The proximate cause of his resignation, 
was, undoubtedly a misunderstanding between him and the Secretary of 
War. Much as I revere the good old adage, — Nil de mort'ms nisi bo- 
num, (say nothing reproachful of the dead,) if after a most careful scru- 
tiny into the causes of that misunderstanding, I could discern on the 
part of General Harrison, the slightest departure fromx the dictates of 
an enlightened patriotism, — Heaven knows, I would not spare ; no not 
even here. But I can find nothing like it. That act, and the causes 
which produced it, were deeply imprinted on my memory at their occur- 
rence, and if there is one act of Harrison's life, which I would assume 
fully to defend, it is this. 

In the latter part of the same year, he was appointed by Mr, Madison 



3 



18 

joint Commissioner vvith Gov. Shelby and Col. Cass, to negotiate trea- 
ties of peace with the Indian tribes,— and again in 1815, the appoint- 
ment was once more renewed. The following year he was elected to 
Cono-ress by a majority of a thousand votes over six competitors. Eight 
years after, he was elected to the Senate of the United States, by the 
Legislature of Ohio. In 1827, he was appointed minister to Colombia 
by Mr. Adams, and recalled by his successor. The next twelve years^ 
he spent in retirement. At his first nomination for the presidency, with 
four oiher candidates in the field, he received seventy-three of the elec- 
toral votes; at the second, two hundred and thirty-four, — or four-fifths 

of the whole. 

I have thus drawn out the leading events in the life of General Har- 
rison. I knew of no other way to show forth his claims to the grati- 
tude of his countrymen, and the respect of posterity. I had purposed' 
from the bet^inning to aver nothing on my own responsibility, nor on 
that of his late political supporters and friends. I have omitted every 
incident, however creditable to talonts or to character, not necessary to^ 
form a connected and complete sketch. Subjecting it now to a just 
analysis, I think it is apparent that Gen. Harrison's patriotism was el- 
evated, generous and sincere. I trace him through a long course of 
public and patriotic services, sustained amidst privations and trials, that 
would have shaken the constancy of ordinary men. I follow him into 
the depths of the wilderness, and find him surrounded by a famished 
soldiery, poor in all but faith and courage, still clinging to him with 
Spartan fidelity. In the language of an uncompromising opponent at 
the late Presidential election, I see him wading through morasses and 
snows; undismayed by the most frightful climate in the union ; gene- 
rously perilling his own popularity to win back for a brother officer a 
disafiected army, and his own life to redeem his country's honor and 
maintain her cause, and I ask no more. Contemplating all this, I fancy 
myself standing over his grave, constructing his epitaph, and my first 
line is, Here lii:s a true lover of his country— A blessing on 
the good old PATRIOT'S name. 

It is equally apparent, I think, that Gen. Harrison was a Irave sol- 
dier, uniformly regardless of danger in a just cause. If I ever doubted, 
I doubt no longer. If such men as Shelby and Johnson and Perry 
and Cass deemed it an honor to battle for freedom under the banner of 
Harrison, it is enough. 1 hear the undaunted Daviess, himself, Ken- 



19 

tucky's boast and pride, protesting that in his opinion, "there were 
TWO distinguished military men at the West, and that Gen. Harrison 
was the first of the two." I hear Col. Johnson, whose intrepidity was 
never suspected, on the floor of Congress thus eulogising his old com- 
mander and companion in arms. " Who is Gen. Harrison ? The his- 
tory of the West is his history. For forty years has he been identified 
with its interests, its perils and its hopes. Universally beloved in the 
walks of life, and distinguished by his abilities in the councils of his 
country, he has been yet nor e illustriously distill guishecl in the field. 
Although longer in service and oftener in action than any other gene- 
ral ofHcer of the last war, he never sustained a defeat." I hear 
the accomplished editor of the Richmond Enquirer, after Gen. Harri- 
son's military conduct had been severely scrutinised, boldly set forth 
his merits. In the spring of 1814, a proposition was made in Con- 
gress, to create the oflice of Lieutenant General in the American army, 
and Mr. Ritchie urged its adoption. I quote a portion of his remarks, 
*' If now we are asked where is the proper man to be met with, com- 
bining all the high requisites that we have enumerated, v>'e answer ac- 
cording to the best of our abilities; In the man who has washed away 
the disasters of Detroit; who had every thing to collect and who got 
every thing together; v/ho was to be daunted neither by the skill of the 
civilian, nor the barbarity of a savage foe : v/ho won the hearts of the 
people by his spirit, the respect of his officers by his zeal, the love of 
his army by a participation of their hardships, and at last triumphed 
over his country's enemies. That man is WILLIAM HENRY 
HARRISON." I cannot wait to hear a score of witnesses, whose tes- 
timony v/ould be equally triumphant, equally pure of partisan preju- 
dice, but I hasten to the Hero's grave, and the second line of his epitaph 
is. Here lies a man of true courage — A blessing on the good old 
SOLDIER'S name. 

It is no less apparent, I think, that Gen. Harrison was an able and ac- 
complished statesman. Whatever impressions I might once have had, 
no point now seems clearer. Such portions of his political creed, as have 
been drawn into the recent controversy belong not here— I am concerned 
only to shew him an intelligent civilian— a skilful negotiator— a wise, 
dignified and popular magistrate. " In this respect," says Mr. Ritchie, 
under the date of January 9, 1813, " gentlemen of high standing who 
have occupied posts of responsibility under Harrison, compare him 



20 

with Washington. He is as circumspect in collecling the means of an 
attack, as he is vigorous in striking the blow. The skill, prudence 
and zeal of Gen. Harrison have now reaped their just reward." En- 
tering the Senate of the United States, he is immediately placed at the 
head of the Military Committee, and becomes the author of a series of 
reports, deemed by impartial judges, to be fine specimens of exact mili- 
tary si'ience, sound political economy and practical legislation. I next 
accompany him to the council fire — and see him affix his signature to 
fifteen treaties of alliance, and there they lie, in the public archives, the 
law of the land, under the ratification of Jefferson and Madison — whilst 
millions of rich and fertile acres are thrown open to the enterprising 
and needy — calling them to competence and comfort. In the beautiful 
language of Mr. Ritchie, written full twenty years ago, — ^" We re- 
joice not so much in the splendor ol his achievements, as in the solid, 
lasting, and wide-spread benefits, which they will produce. These re- 
quire no official accounts to emblazon them. The frontier is safe. Ohio 
may now sleep securely. The trembling mother that nightly used to 
clasp her infant 10 her breast, may now rock its cradle in peace." I 
would point, moreover, to the efforts of Gen. Harrison, sustained through 
the last twenty-five years, to lessen the expenses of agriculture, and re- 
move the difficulties with which the farmers of the country now have 
to struggle. 1 would refer you to his able advocacy of the true repub- 
lican doctrine, for I use his onn language, uttered long before his 
name had been whispered for the Presidency, — "that no more fatal 
idea can be entertained, than that our republic is to be preserved either 
by the wealth of its citizens, or the amount of the public revenue, and 
that the brightest eras of all republics have been those when 
honorable, not abject poverty prevailed, and when patriotism was best 
rewarded." I call to mind the clearness and force, with which, in his 
speech before the Senate in 1827, he maintained that other republican 
principle, to which every bosom here present will beat in full unison, 
to wit, "that equal rights among all the people are the only basis of 
free institutions, and that when this principle is obscured, or sacrificed 
to a monied aristocracy, denying to the laboring man, constant employ, 
reasonable wages, and prompt pay, legislation will be turned into op- 
pression, and government become another name for tyrranny." I ap- 
peal to the lucid argumentation and the broad philanthropy which 
pervade his letter to Bolivar, frankly attempting to dissuade the deliv- 



erer of Colombia, fiom grasping the ofTei'ed sceptrn of a despot. Fellow 
citizens, bear with me. This is the great question touching his public 
character, and I am anxious to test it. Take, then, a stripling of eigh- 
teen months out of college, and throw him into a Western camo. Keep 
him six years on fatigue duty. Release him from the camp, only to 
make him toil awhile in the woods. Plunge him now into the cares of 
a civil station, as onerous as they are intricate and new. Put intoihis 
hand the helm of state before he has seen his twenty-fifth year. Spread 
out his jurisdiction over a tenitory, larger than that of all France, and 
traversed by savage hordes, thirsting for blood. Require him to nego- 
tiate equitable treaties with those very savages, whilst smarting under a 
sense of their wrongs. Hurry him back to the camp, and with a few 
undisciplined and unfurnished troops, exact of him, forthwith to wipe 
the stain of treachery and cowardice from your arms, " to muzzle the 
Indian war-dog," and to prove that American gallantry is not less invin- 
cible upon the shore than upon the wave. Take him now in the Sen- 
ate chamber, to contend for the palm, with the ripest scholars and wisest 
minds of the age. Send him to a Foreign and semi-civilized court. 
Suddenly recal him, and for twelve years, throw around him the shades 
of retirement. Let his countrymen all have time to cool, to scan and 
scrutinise every recorded act and remembered word of his whole life, 
civil, political, military. Pass him through an ordeal, so multifa- 
rious, sustained, and severe ; and if now, he has left such proofs 0/ great- 
ness and goodness behind him, that the gifted and the good, will cheer- 
fully defer to his claims; will rejoice to stand aside, that one thus 
tried; thus proved, may in obedience to the trumpet-call of his country, 
by one magnificent bound, leap from the clerkship of a county court, to 
the Chief-magistracy of seventeen million freemen — I ask no more. 
With busy wing, imagination hastes her to his grave, and writes with a 
steady hand — Here lies a STATESMAN, whose wisdom equalled 
every crisis, and lohose virtue resisted every temptation. 

It is equally apparent to my own mind, that Gen. Harrison was an 
eloquent man. This quality stands legitimately apart from the prece- 
ding. I shall rest his claims on evidence derived from his actual per- 
formances. I will confine myself to a single specimen, though I have 
lingered long among many of equal excellence. It is the peroration 
of Gen. Harrison's speech in Congress on his own motion for a com- 
mittee to report what honors might be due to the memory of Thaddeus 



22 

Kosciusco, a Polish General, for his services to the American cause in 
the war of the revolution, Kosciusco was a firm friend to liberty, im- 
mortalised hardly less by the beautiful verse of Campbell, than by hia 
own great actions. 

" Hope for a season bade the world farewell, 
And Freedom shriek'd when Kosciusco fell." 

Harrison's euloglum upon the illustrious Pole, thus ends. "Such 
was the man, sir, for whose memory, I ask from an American Congress, 
a slight tribute of lespect ; not, sir, to perpetuate his fame, but our grat^ 
itude. His flime, sir, will last as long as liberty remains on the Earth. 
,As long as a votary offers incense upon her altar, the name of Kosciusco 
'vvili be invoked. And if by the common consent of the world, a temple 
shall be erected to those who have rendered most service to mankind ; 
if the statue of our great countryman shall occupy the place of the 
most worthy, that of Kosciusco will be found at his side, and the wreath 
of laurel will be entwined with the palm of virtue to adorn his brow." 
I. recal, too, those "burning words," which so often infused new life 
into the famished and desponding soldier, and roused him to deeds of 
daring, and already another line glows on his tomb-stone — Here lies 
IN SILENCE THE ONCE ELOaUENT ORATOR, 

It is very apparent, I think, that Gen. Harrison was a Jiigh-mindedr 
just and generous man. If any one is in doubt, let him be reminded of 
Harrison's masrnanimous foro'ivenessof the wretch who had crawled to 
his marquee to murder him in his sleep. Let him not forget the Ge- 
neral's strict and never-failing orders on the eve of battle, that" women 
and children and even the warrior who ceased to resist, should be scru- 
pulously spared," His humanity in this particular, is the more com- 
■mendable, that it gushed forth in all its fulness, at the very time, when 
Proctor had just been instigating the inhuman massacre ofFrenchtown 
•and the Maumee, " Let the account of murdered innocence," said 
Harrison to his gallant army, " be opened in the records of Heaven 
against our enemies alone. The American soldier will follow the 
example of his goverment, and neither the sword of the one will be 
raised against the helpless or the fallen, nor the gold of the other be 
paid for the scalp of the murdered enemy." " In this passage," says 
another of his political opponents, and one of admitted ability, "In this 
passage, there is an eloquence approaching to sublimity." Rather say, 



23 

there is a tenderness in it approaching to piety. Noble was the act, too, 
after the battle of the Thames, of wrapping a wounded captive in his 
only remaining blanket. Worthy of being " enrolled in the capitol," 
was his reply to the friendly Indian, who informed him that Proctor had 
promised his savage allies, if they would help him to get Harrison 
into his power, they should have him to torture at their pleasure. " Has- 
he, indeed! Well then, if I can catch him, I will give him up to you, 
on condition, that no worse indignity be offered him, than to dress him 
as a female, and let the squaws lead him round the camp." 

Meritorious of more than Grecian or Roman fame, was ihe sentiment 
which he uttered in Congress, in opposition to a resolution for increasing 
the pay of the members. " Whenever justice shall have been rendered 
to the sufferers of the revolution, then and not till then, will 1 consent to 
talk of doing justice to ourselves." Equally honorable is the fact, that 
with frugal habits in his own expenses, and opportunities to have rea- 
ped a harvest of thousands, he died, like his father before him, in hones^ 
virtuous poverty. I read then, another bright line on his growing epi- 
taph. Here lies " God's noblest work," AN HONEST MAN. 
From my narrative I venture to educe one feature more — Gen Har- 
rison was a conscientious man. I do not say that he was, technically 
and strictly, a religious man — that is a religionist by profession. I sup- 
pose he was not. 'His friends inform us, that he had been for some 
time, fully purposed to be publicly united to the Christian Church, as 
soon as he could do so, without giving occasion for his motives to be 
suspected. He was however a punctual worshipper in the Episcopal 
service, — ^and the cherished associate of religious men. The Rt. Rev. 
Joshua Soule, one of the ornaments of the Methodist Church says of him, 
" I consider General Harrison's private character above reproach — He 
is my neighbor. I have often been an inmate of his family, and I con- 
sider his house one of the best houses for the ministers of Jesus Christ, 
in this country." — Yet more explicit is the concurrent testimony of his 
pastor at Washington and of several respectable ministers of different 
religious denominations, men who have often watched his deportment 
in the honest diskabille of private life. Gen. James Miller, the hero 
of Chippewa, a man proverbially parsimonious of praise — uses the fol- 
lowing strong language. " I have observed every step of Gen. Har- 
rison's civil and military career. I have been a member' of his family 
— I have known him officially and individually, and I solemnly believe 



24 

that he is as free from stain as it falls to the lot of man ,to be," One 
precious line we add, and his epitaph stands revealed and complete. 
Here lies a man who religiously feared, and devoutly wor- 
shipped God — HONORED Ills MINISTERS, AND REVERED HIS NAME. 

Such, then, if we may believe the most competent and the most impar- 
tial, (and none others have been permitted to testify,) such was General 
William Henry Harrison, the ninth and last President of these United 
States : — a good old man, — full of years and of honors — gone to his 
fathers like a shock of ripe corn, garnered up in its season. 

Who is not a mourner to-day? I confess to you that strong emotions 
stir themselves up, and struggle for utterance. Let us chasten, not chide 
them, and listen as we part to the voice of God. 

The death of the President eloquently illustrates the frailty of man. 
With what rapid flight, passed the spirit of destiny over his last days ! 
On the third of March, he was seen in the simplicity of a private citi- 
zen, possessing not an element of official power above the mass. The 
next day, he was seen clad in the insignia of the highest station on 
earth— the honored Head of the freest nation in .the world. Count 
just thirty days more, and he claims of his countrymen, nothing but a 
winding-sheet, and a shroud. Oh! how mutable is man! Oh how aw- 
ful is God ! The admonition is loud and impressive to-day. Put not 
your trust in man. Repose not on an arm of flesh. Boast no more of in- 
tellect—of patriotism—of prowess— of power. Let the politician pause, 
I pray, and ponder this event. Its solemnity cannot be exaggerated. 

The fame that heroes cherish, 
The glory earned in deadly fray 
Must fade, decay, and perish. 

Let me be importunate. If I entreat—if I conjure you to reflect 
deeply and seriously and penitently in the sight of Heaven, I do but 
feebly echo the unwonted warnings, which cluster around the present 
hour. Should we heed them lightly— should our countrymen set them 
all at nought, and turn to them only a deaf ear, other and deeper re- 
bukes may well be apprehended. The fear of God oimst come to per- 
vade all classes, substituting the calm legislation of conscience, for the 
impulses of interest or ambition, as the only pledge of abiding 

PROSPERITY. . . 

But melancholy as the occasion is, it gives assurance that the spirit 
of republicanism is a constituent element of American character. 
Apart from the controversies of political opiaion, there is yet common 



25> 



ground, and it is holy, Beneath t?,ie billows of party strife, and the mu- 
lations of party power, there is solid rock. It is well sometimes to un- 
cover the foundations of the Republic, and to let the country see that 
her dearest institutions have their moorings in the d^^pths of the human 
soul— in the immutability of Truth— in the goodness of God. We 
stand to-day 6n the simple platform of our common faith. If we speak 
of the general government, the bond of that Union, which is 'one and 
indivisible' in all our hearts, then are we, in the words of Mr. Jeffer- 
son, all Federalists. If we look lo ourselves, and to our birth-rirrht as 
freemen, then are we, in the words of the same patriot, all republicans: 
At other times we will honestly differ, and honorably contend. Here, 
we are one— brethren of the same favored family— sympathising in a 
common bereavement, and 'it is good to be here.' 

The operation of our system never seemed happier than at this very 
moment. In the season of a wide exultation, the Chief Magistrate of 
a great and confiding people was suddenly struck down, wliat then? 
No confusion follows— no trepidation— no revolutionary outcry— no 
rush to arms. The government moves right onward. Not a wheel 
stops. Not a jar is felt. One name, indeed, is blotted out— to thou- 
sands, a dear and honored name. Another is written in its place, and 
all is quiet as before. Meantime, the nation puts on her weeds awhile, 
and silently deplores her loss. Again, she puts them off; and goes joy' 
ously forth, like a strong man armed, or a giant panting for the race. 

Fellow Citizens:— I have done. My sad task is finished. Piety 
pleads that she may go once more to the grave, and indulge in a single 
thought. How unlike, the deaths of Napoleon and Harrison. " The 
fifth of May, 1821, came on amidst wind and rain. The elements 
were stirred to fierce commotion. But the passing spirit of Napoleon 
was deliriously engaged in a strife more terrible than that of the ele- 
ments around. The words tele d'armee, the last which ever passed his 
lips, indicated that his thoughts were watching the current of a heavy 
fight. After a struggle befitting the fallen Colossus, he breathed his last " 
Not so with our beloved President. His sun was at the zenith, when 
Its light was quenched. ' His blushing honors,' were fresh, as well as 
thick upon him.' His latent aspirations from earth, were on hiscoun- 
try's behalf •' The true principles of the government"— these 
he would that we should understand and carry out, and he wished for 
nothing more. 

4 



26 

Honored Chief! We ihank thee for the trust, and will bind it to our 

hearts. 

Peace to the just man's memory --let it ^row ' 
Greener vvuh years, and blossom through thlfli^ht 
Of ages ; let the mimic canvass show ** 

His calm benevolent features; let the hVht 
Stream on his deeds of love, that shunnea the s^Vht 
Of all but heaven, and in the book of fame "^ 

The glorious record of his virtues write, 
And hold u up to men, and bid them claim 
A palm LiKu HIS, and catch from him, the halloioedjlam 



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